letters to nobody #4: enid blyton

darling nobody,

school starts. it's an enid blyton story, and i'm living in it. the uniform is a blue blouse with a checked skirt that i instantly adore. the building is fairly small, the classrooms freezing cold. the sky is visible from the classroom.

i enter the school on the first day, to see three of my friends, other exchange students, waving at me from the window of their class above. i grin, waving back, excited to be in the same class as them– before i find out that i'm not. the teacher leads me right past the door of their classroom, and suddenly, everything seems a little harder. i stare at the door of my classroom, the words year 5 engraved on it, and the door stares back at me, daunting.

when i enter the classroom, all eyes are on me. but the faces are friendly and i relax as i am introduced to everyone. there's twenty people in class apart from me (i count in my head), and all twenty of them are smiling at me comfortingly right now.

i move to the design class and that's how i end up seated next to eli. my first thought when she smiles at me is that her face is pleasant. it's the kind of pleasant that makes you want to hug her, her eyes warm and kind. she also reminds me of someone, but i can't figure out who, and i don't think i ever will. sweet is an understatement while talking about eli. she smiles at me, asks me questions about india– please tell me if i offend you so i don't ask you again– and patiently answers all my questions about school. i leave design class with eli by my side, and a hopeful smile on my face.

the teachers are warm, and go out of their way to be nice to me. my english teacher tells me about how she lived in india for four years as a child, and how it was magical. i realise, for the first time, how comforting it is to talk to someone who knows india, as it is.
i didn't like it while i was there, but i miss it now, i tell her. my parents had always told me i will. 

i talk to more people that day, and i'm bombarded by questions. i am begged to talk in hindi, write in hindi, tell them something about india, and after a while, i begin to enjoy it, too– offering to write everyone's name in hindi in their notebooks.

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मेरा नाम साची है। मै भारत से हुॅ। मुझे घर की याद आती है।

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i never thought i'd be eager to write something in hindi, after months of skipping hindi classes– but sometimes, we find ourselves doing things we never expected to. so here i am, in mexico, darling, far away from home. but in a way, i'm closer to home than i've ever been.

darling nobody,

i grew up reading stories of schools that i could only dream of, and i'm going to one of those now, but it still feels like a dream.

the blue sky continues to fascinate me.

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